


Diamonds in His Eyes

by unfoldingbliss



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Eventual Romance, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-22 23:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13177176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfoldingbliss/pseuds/unfoldingbliss
Summary: As Shiro's 25th birthday approaches, he's almost accepted that he may spend the rest of his life hidden away in a tower, with only his mother and cat for company. But now there's a man tied to his favorite chair, claiming he can take him to the kingdom of lights. [Shiro/Keith - Tangled AU]





	Diamonds in His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirradin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirradin/gifts).



In his defense, Shiro had panicked. 

He had been on his bed, reading the latest novel his mother had gifted him when he heard footsteps hit the wood floor downstairs. At first, he thought he might have imagined it - maybe it was some kind of latent coping mechanism to deal with his mother's final refutation of his only birthday wish. But then he heard Kovu hiss from the other side of the room, bristling with a rage he had never seen in his docile pet. And _that's_  when the fear struck him. 

Mother had said this might happen. It was statistical improbability; she had assured, but that didn't mean she would leave him without precautions. Regardless, he spent most of his free time strength training around the tower. If this intruder expected a damsel to cower before them, Shiro would prove an unwelcome surprise. 

Still, it had frightened him that someone other than his mother was in the tower now. He'd spent his whole life fantasizing about meeting another person - greeting them, walking with them, talking with them. But all those fantasies were outside the tower, in the cities and castles and forests he had constructed in his head. Inside the tower... that was another story. 

Shiro had tip-toed out of his room and used his hair to make his way to the bottom floor. The intruder was looking over the murals Shiro had painted beside the kitchen when he approached, their hair black and unkempt, frayed strands moving past his ears and down his neck. He didn't catch a good look at the intruder's face before he smashed the back of his favorite pocket knife into their head, but he could tell they were a man. Even if they were slim, they lacked the softness and curves his mother had. He _almost_  felt guilty, but it was what mother would have wanted. Shiro had to protect himself and his gift at all cost. The kingdom needed peace, and for that to happen, Shiro had to be locked up and out of reach of ruthless, greedy hands. 

But when he noticed the man's smooth, handsome face, regret tugged at his heart, leaving him breathless. 

"Oh, wow..." Shiro's breath caught as he turned the man over, black tresses falling over his face. The man's skin was fair, his nose sharp, and his lips full and pink. A satchel hung over his shoulder, but Shiro had no desire to pry into the man's belongings. Shiro blinked, unsure what to do with the stranger beside stare at him and his pretty face. Had it not been for Kovu's persistent hissing, that might have been a real possibility. 

A few minutes later, and here he was: waiting in the shadows of his reading corner, waiting for the man to wake up. He had his knife tucked into his back pocket and a chunk of his hair wrapped around his right arm. Had mother been there, she would have hoisted him out of the window and buried him in a ditch in the forest. But for all her lessons, for all her insistence that people were evil and would come to ravage Shiro and his gifts at a moment's notice, Shiro could not harden his heart to that capacity. His mother may have seen the evil of man, she may have been manipulated, betrayed, and abused - but Shiro hadn't. And the least he could do was give this man the chance to speak for himself and justify his actions. 

Besides, there was a small part of Shiro (a very,  _very_  small part, he assured himself) that wondered what his eyes looked like. If they were as pleasant as the rest of his face, his heart might skip a beat. And  _that -_  to feel what enraptured the heroes in all those romance novels and fairy tales - was his most private, coveted fantasy. 

\-----

When Keith woke up, the back of his skull was pounding. 

He moaned as he tried to open his eyes, the pain amplified with just the slightest tilt of his head. He tried to move his arms to soothe the ache, but he felt ropes wrapped tight around his shoulders and waist, restraining him. God, what had hit him? The last thing he could recall was looking at those murals. He had been surprised by how detailed the paper lanterns were, how lush and green the trees appeared. He wasn't an expert, but he knew that took skill and years of practice. Had his life not gone to complete shit in the past twenty-four hours, he might have stuck around long enough to meet the artist. 

_Well, wish granted_ , Keith cringed and shook his head. He had to open his eyes and get used to his surroundings again. If he wanted to survive this ordeal, he'd need every sense available. He squeezed his eyes a second time and eased the tension in his face before opening them. At first, his vision was blurry, but he could make out the trace of the window he had entered from along with its stream of accompanying sunlight. As his eyes adjusted to the light and the ache in his skull subsided to a dull, nagging pang, Keith could see the plants sitting atop the window and the mural of vines and woodland sprites spiraling around the window's brick frame. Keith blinked and turned his head, unconcerned with his head's persistent protest. He drank in the murals that seemed to touch every corner of the walls - he especially liked the quintet of cats near the bookshelf, though he wondered why the artist had colored a few in such outlandish hues like bright blue and neon green. 

"Amazing," Keith breathed out, his voice feeling scratchy against his parched throat. God, when was the last time he had anything to drink? And how long had he been restrained to this chair? His arms and legs felt stiff, and his stomach emitted a low growl, alerting Keith to another problem. He could do without that, really. It wasn't like he could feed himself with these ropes - 

"Who are you?" a soft, deep voice penetrated the quiet of the tower, and Keith whipped his head towards its direction, wincing as his vision swerved and his headache intensified. That voice didn't sound like anyone he would expect in this tower. Though, to be fair, everything about this place was unexpected. When he had first discovered the tower, he had assumed it abandoned - the perfect place to hideaway for the next few days. But the murals had looked too fresh, the plants too lively, and the scents too potent for the tower to be vacant. He would have left after a little more meandering through the first floor but, well...

At least he had a good idea who knocked him out. 

"My name - " Keith caught himself. Unveiling his real name to a complete stranger bordered on moronic. He gathered his thoughts and recollected a boy from his hometown with clear, hazel eyes and black hair similar to his own. That could work. "My name is Akira." 

"Akira... that's a nice name," the voice said, a hint of wonder lacing its tone. But rigid words soon replaced that wonder, an unspoken threat intertwined with every syllable, "How did you find this tower, and why are you here?" 

"I was... escaping a few, uh, ruffians who were after something of mine," Keith replied, doing his best to remain as vague as possible. Wouldn't do to have this stranger know his profession revolved around stolen crowns and street brawls with castle guards. "I found this tower while I ran through the forest. I thought it was abandoned and that I could use it to lie low for a few days. Or until I thought I was safe."

He paused, unsure if that was a satisfactory answer. He continued, more for himself than the stranger hidden in the shadows. His stomach flopped with both hunger and guilt, and he couldn't - he wouldn't - have someone think he was a common thief ready to kill and maim whenever necessary. "I didn't mean to alarm you, and I promise I won't cause you harm. Had I known this tower was someone's home, I wouldn't have intruded. I... I apologize." 

"Do you mean that?" the voice asked, the wonder returning to its voice. Keith couldn't quite place it but the words, while confident and assured, seemed stilted, as if they weren't used to talking to others. Though, Keith could imagine that living in a tower this far out from the rest of the kingdom prevented its occupants from taking many social calls. Perhaps Keith was the first person they'd seen in a long,  _long_  while. 

 "Yes, I mean that - I won't harm you," Keith nodded, his face steeled with conviction. 

"Okay... okay," the voice said. "I'll undo your restraints. But, if you're lying, you'll answer to me and my cat."

"Your cat?" Keith quirked a brow. At his words, a vicious hiss shot throughout the room. It seemed to be directly behind Keith - maybe the cat was propped on top of a dresser or closet shelf. But whatever the cat looked like, Keith was sure that the voice was not one to make empty threats. "All right, you have a deal. But, it would be nice to see who I'm talking to,  _and_  who hit me so damn hard." 

"Oh - I, uh, apologize about that," the voice stammered, its tone growing sheepish. Keith almost smiled, amused that he, the intruder, was being apologized to. "You're the first person besides my mother and me to be in this tower." 

"Really? That's sort of - " Keith's next words died in his throat as he felt the ropes loosen, his arms and legs tingling in response. He looked down, unsure how the stranger had done that from the shadows. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the long, thin black strands tied by thick, white ribbons every two feet. Mild fascination and horror swirled through him, his fingers tugging at its soft, fine ends. 

The ropes weren't ropes at all. 

"That's hair," Keith's voice did not shake despite his unnerving realization. He had been tied down by really strong, really long hair. His list of the day's unpredictable events was becoming daunting, and he wasn't sure if he could stomach any more of it. "You bound me to hair."

"I apologize for that, too," the voice consoled as the hair spiraled off of Keith and slithered into the shadows. "We don't keep ropes in the tower." 

"Why?" Keith asked, grasping onto the ends of the chair's armrest until his knuckles went white. He had promised he wouldn't hurt the voice, but that didn't rule out self-defense. Without ropes, no one could escape the tower unless they were exceptionally skilled at scaling walls. Was the voice lying to him, trying to catch him off-guard? Where was their "mother" anyway? 

He could hear the voice take a deep breath and clothes shuffle, as if hands were smoothing out wrinkles on a shirt. Soon, he heard a pair of feet approach him. The footsteps weren't loud or skittish or fast - they were slow, deliberate. He could also hear hair rustle against the floor, but that confused Keith the most. For hair to drag along the floor...

But then a person stepped out of the shadows, and all thoughts of hair and footsteps dissolved. 

From the voice, Keith had suspected it was a man, and a man he definitely was. He was tall, maybe four or five inches taller than Keith, with broad shoulders and a full chest. He wore a black, long-sleeved tunic, and a thick, brown belt fit snug around his waist. Brown breeches finished the simple ensemble, his feet bare. But that wasn't what struck Keith dumb. 

The man's face was a complete vision. Like something out of a storybook. 

His skin was a lush olive, contrasting well against his tunic's collar. He had a strong, square jaw, high cheekbones, and a long, refined nose. Wide lips, a few shades lighter than his skin, filled out the bottom of his face. Thick brows framed his eyes, angular and accompanied by long, black eyelashes. And his eyes - his  _eyes_  were a dark gray, reminding Keith of clouds before a storm or smoke above a dying fire. They shined as they took in Keith's stare, like there were stupefied by his presence, by the fact Keith was still in the chair watching him approach. His frame may have been poised, his back straight and his lips void of a smile or a frown - but his eyes glistened. They  _sparkled_. 

There were diamonds in his eyes, more precious than any jewel or treasure Keith had stolen before. He was sure. 

So taken by the man's eyes, he almost missed the vivid white bangs swept against his forehead and the long, black hair that traveled down his shoulders, passed his legs, and onto the floor. White ribbons kept his hair tidy; rather than dainty or effeminate, they made him appear sophisticated. Even regal. 

"The hair... that's your hair," Keith let out when the man was a few feet away, his heart swelling with unspoken words. He had never felt so compelled - he had never felt compelled at all - to tell someone how beautiful they were. Was this tower enchanted - was this man? There had to be some kind of spell in the air, something that was filling his lungs with a crackling adoration for a man he had just met. 

"We... we don't keep ropes in the tower because..." the man began, his eyes shifting from Keith's face to the floor. He spiraled a chunk of his hair around his arm and crushed one ribbon underneath his fingertips. "Because it's a precaution. So that no one can steal me away."

"Steal you away? Why would anyone do that?" Keith asked, knowing precisely why  _he_  would whisk this man out of the tower. 

The man paused and closed his eyes - perhaps weighing his options towards telling Keith the truth or keeping it a secret. He grimaced, but then soon turned his attention back to Keith, his eyes glossed over in resolve. "You weren't after me? You have no idea what I'm capable of?" 

"No. No, I - all I wanted was a safe place to stay," Keith almost pleaded, but he kept his tone as composed as possible. Heat swarmed his cheeks and shame clawed at the back of his throat. The man searched Keith's face for answers, judging if Keith was someone he could trust. Keith had already lied to him, had already shown his true colors. He wasn't a man anyone should trust, least of all someone so beautiful as the person before him. "But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. And I promise once I leave I'll never -"

"You want to leave?" the man interrupted, something akin to hurt giving his voice a raw, raspy quality. 

"I thought you would want me gone as soon as possible," Keith replied. "Before your mother returns. If she thinks everyone is after you, I'm sure she wouldn't hesitate to throw me out the window the moment she found me in this chair."

The man blinked. A moment passed, and he cracked a smile, his eyes sparkling elation once more. Giddy laughter soon followed, and Keith's ears tickled at the sound. "Yeah - that was one of my first thoughts, too. My mother would have already thrown your body down a cliff by now. Maybe even offer your corpse to the wolves down south."

"Lucky me," Keith sighed, tempted to roll his eyes. Good to know that in his sea of bad fortune, death and dismemberment had yet to be fished out. 

"Lucky you indeed," the man continued to smile, straightening his back and offering Keith his hand. "My apologies, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Shiro, and behind you is my cat, Kovu." 

Keith took the man's hand - smooth and dry - and hoisted himself off the chair. He returned the smile and reluctantly let his hand slip from his grasp. "It's good to meet you, Shiro. Again, I'm sorry for -"

Something jumped onto Shiro's shoulders before he could finish, forcing Keith to stumble backward, the back of his legs hitting the front of the chair. He winced but turned his attention back to Shiro and the black cat now perched on his shoulders. Yellow eyes bore into Keith, and Kovu's nose flared. While Shiro was willing to trust him, the cat required further observation. 

"Uh, nice to meet you too, Kovu," Keith didn't dare approach the cat, deciding to provide Kovu with a casual salute instead. While he wasn't afraid of a few scratches on his face, being maimed by Shiro's cat could damper the start of their friendship. 

"Apologies for my cat as well," Shiro gave him a sheepish grin and leaned his face into Kovu's fur. The cat purred at the affectionate gesture, placated for the moment. "He hasn't seen anyone besides my mother and I since he was a kitten." 

"All is forgiven," Keith chuckled. "How old is he, anyway?"

"Seventeen," Shiro answered, matter-of-fact, and frowned at the sight of Keith's bulging eyes and open mouth. "Is that unusual?"

"Most cats around here are lucky to live past a decade," Keith replied. "And I guess staying up here would help him stay alive a little longer but... his coat looks so fresh, and I can't find any gray in his fur or whiskers."

"That might have to do with mine and my mother's -" Shiro recoiled, tearing his stare from Keith and back to the floor. "I apologize... again. I don't think it's safe to tell you."

"Look, Shiro..." Keith trailed, his heart fluttering. It was strange, bizarre. He had had one of the worst days of his life. He had abandoned his best friend in that forest outside the tower, at the mercy of the castle guards. Keith knew so little about Shiro, but he felt like he'd do anything to earn his trust, to earn his affection. 

It had to be his eyes. His eyes must have hypnotized Keith, bound him to his soul. It was his only explanation for the yearning that whirled through his stomach and shook his fingers. 

"But despite everything my mother has told me - I want to tell you," Shiro admitted, glancing back to Keith. "You didn't intend to, but you found me. I've never met anyone else in my life and even if I did... I don't think I'd want to tell them as much as I want to tell you." 

Keith parted his lips and sucked in the stale tower air, his body warm. It seemed then, more than anything, Shiro wanted someone to listen to him. Perhaps it had been complete luck that Keith had been the first to find and scale this tower, but he would be a fool to throw this chance away. For most his life, fortune and favor had eluded him. Now, here was a pristine, kind man who could offer him a sliver of something good - something worthwhile. "Well, what do you think is safe to tell me? Something that wouldn't betray your mother's trust?"

Shiro narrowed his eyes and creased his brows in concentration. He took a step backward, and his gaze traveled from Keith to the walls and its murals. While Kovu moved from his owner's shoulders and jumped onto the floor, Shiro looked past his bookshelf and his cookware, his stare venturing towards the right side of the tower. It wasn't until Shiro's eyes caught onto the mural of the paper lanterns, his lips drawn into a wistful smile, that Keith made the obvious connection. 

On top of being gorgeous, Shiro was one hell of an artist.

"On my birthday, every year, these lights shoot from the forest and into the sky," Shiro said, his voice almost a whisper. "I've always wanted to know where they come from, what they mean. I've asked my mother for as long as I can remember if, just once, she could take me to see them. I promised I would never want to leave the tower after that - I'd stay and protect my gift forever, with just her and Kovu." 

"And... what has she told you?" Keith asked, though he was sure Shiro's answer would prove unpleasant. 

Shiro sighed and turned back to Keith, the diamonds in his eyes fading, "It's too dangerous. Even with all my training and learning how to defend myself - she says the people out there would capture me and lock me away in a dungeon, and they'd use my powers for their own selfish gain. When I was younger, I didn't understand, and I would cry and throw myself onto my bed. But now... I've accepted that this is my life. I can't wallow. I have to make the best of my circumstances. If not for myself, then for my mother and all she has done for me." 

Keith processed Shiro's words, glancing over to the painted paper lanterns. This was all he wanted, to see the paper lanterns that mourned the kidnapped prince? The wish seemed simple enough. Why would his mother rebuke him, even after all his training? Shiro was a man (and hardly one Keith would call small or scrawny). He could take care of himself. 

_Wait, now there's an idea,_ Keith reflected. He held his chin in-between his fingers and looked back to Shiro. "Where is your mother right now? Does she leave you alone often?"

Shiro nodded, "Yes, usually to get food and whatever else we need around the tower. Instead of ropes, she uses my hair to climb the tower."

"Strong hair," Keith grinned. His words elicited a faint blush from Shiro, and his grin widened at the response. "But what's she doing now?"

"For my birthday, I asked her for new paints to work with and a good book. She left this morning."

"Okay - and how long will it take for her to get back?"

"She has to go into a village on the other side of the hills to get the paints. It can take her anywhere from three to four days to return, but I suspect with the book hunting, it'll be four this time around." 

"And she left this morning, right?"

"Yes... she did," Shiro reiterated, his lips pursed in confusion. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, your birthday is tomorrow, right?" Keith took a few steps towards the paper lantern mural, his mind buzzing with fortuitous possibility. If he had Shiro in tow with him on his return to the kingdom, he could hit  _three_  birds with one stone: drop off the crown and receive his reward, find Lance to plan their escape out of the kingdom and into Galra territory,  _and_  escort Shiro to the see the paper lanterns. Maybe he could even convince Shiro to abandon his life of confined solitude and come with him instead! Of course, befriending Shiro could prove to be a liability - he still didn't know what his "gift" entailed, or what his mother would do if someone stole Shiro away.

But, Keith was a thief - a good thief. And stealing risky treasure was all part of the package. 

"Why don't you come with me? To see the lanterns?" Keith suggested. "We can travel through the forest together, look around the kingdom, watch the ceremony, and then get you back here with enough time for your mother to never suspect a thing. It's the perfect setup." 

"What?" Shiro whipped his hair behind him, his stare incredulous. "Leave the tower, to see the lanterns? With  _you_? Why would you do that?" 

"Look, it's the least I could do - I invaded your home, scared your cat, and would be dead if your mother was around," Keith acknowledged, crossing his arms and moving back towards Shiro. "If you don't want to, that's fine. I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again. But... this could be your chance. To know what's out there." 

Shiro curled his fingers into fists, his knuckles white. His body was stiff, his stare void of emotion. Keith could only imagine the dilemma Shiro faced. He hadn't expected this opportunity to ever present itself. And if he had, the way Shiro smiled at those painted lanterns showed he had given up on those dreams some time ago. 

"If there are people out there - people who know who I am - will you protect me from them?" Shiro asked, his eyes not quite meeting Keith's. "I don't... I don't want my mother to worry."

Keith wasn't sure what compelled him to reach across the room and press his hand into Shiro's shoulder, but he suspected it had to do with the yearning in his eyes. How the diamonds returned and glistened with the possibility, a thousand fantasies pouring into his head. "Sure, Shiro. I promise I'll protect you, no matter what." 

Shiro tilted his head to glance at the hand on his shoulder, his lips parted. He soon smiled, and placed his hand over Keith's, squeezing his fingers. "Thank you, Akira. You have no idea how much this means to me." 

And with Shiro's diamond eyes so close, his hand warm and large against his own, Keith wondered how Shiro's lips would feel pressed against his own, fingers wound tight around his lower back - 

A wicked hiss intruded his thoughts, and he felt teeth nip at his ankle. Shiro gasped as Keith threw himself back, almost stumbling into the chair for the second time that afternoon. 

"Kovu!" Shiro exclaimed, voice cracked and cheeks flushed. "That wasn't - he wasn't doing anything. Are you okay, Akira?"

"Yeah, yeah - I'm fine. And I promise I had no intention of ki - kicking him in the shins, or you know, whatever bad people do," Keith corrected himself, his face hot once more. Maybe this plan wasn't as perfect as he thought...

Shiro scratched the back of his head, an embarrassed chuckle accompanying his next words. "But, you know - Kovu and Ican take care of ourselves. All that training has to amount to something." 

"Yeah, I figured," Keith nodded. "But it's the thought that counts, right? I'm sure I have a few good punches in me."

"Definitely more than a few," Shiro's hand traveled from his head to the back of his neck, his posture relaxed but his body bristling with an excitement, with a hope that spilled butterflies into Keith's stomach. "Does your offer extend to Kovu? I'm afraid I wouldn't feel right leaving him behind."

_Of course_ , the cat was coming with them. That was another detail he'd forgotten. Keith tried to keep his displeasure to a minimum and shrugged. "Yeah, that's fine. More the merrier and all that."

"Great!" Shiro's smile broadened as he raced up the stairs, his bare feet practically gliding across the second floor. "Let me pack a few things, and we can be on our way."

"I'll be waiting," Keith replied and waved up to Shiro, his chest light. The man's giddiness was infectious. Not that he could blame him - his life was about to begin. 

Kovu stood behind, his yellow eyes never leaving Keith. His stare prevented Keith from looking into his satchel and inspecting the crown. He opted to cross his arms instead, challenging the cat with a glare. The crown's weight pressed against his side, however, and Keith sighed in relief. He could finally escape this miserable kingdom. He could find his family.

_And maybe... there's something else_ , Keith thought as he looked up towards Shiro's room, wondering just what the man could be packing. Books? Knives? Gourmet cat food?

Keith shook his head, chuckling to himself. Whatever Shiro brought, it didn't matter. So long as the diamonds in his eyes remained, their journey would be fine. Keith was sure. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Shaladin Secret Santa over on tumblr! My giftee was brightisthedawn, and they asked for a fantasy AU of some kind! Hopefully, a Tangled AU counts as fantasy for them. And, at the very least, I hope you enjoy my interpretation of Shiro and Keith in this setting.
> 
> Also: Shiro doesn't have his scar. If I were to continue this, he would definitely receive it though. He also doesn't have his Galra arm and I'm not really sure how I would fit it into this universe - so, he's without it for the time being.


End file.
